Dissasociation
by Alfendi Layton
Summary: Do you remember when you were the grown-up, and I was kid? You made me go to bed on time, and made me finish my breakfast. And every morning at 9:00 AM I had to take my medicine. Remember the day you took me to the park? And you pushed me on the swings. Or the time you took me to the library. Or that time we went to the train museum, and I cried when it was time to leave. Remember?


"Good morning, Miss Beatrice!"

"Good mornin' to you, Miss Clara Oswald!"

Clara bounded up to the plexi glass. "And how are we today?"

"Oh, I managed to drag dis old body back to work again today, thank Jesus." She gave a tired laugh, "You know dat crazy old foo' who lid across da road from me?" she gestured in front of herself, pointing to the imaginary house she was referring to.

Clara nodded, "Yeah, has he been botherin' you again?"

"Nah, but get dis! My car wouldn't start, dis mornin' so I had to-"

Oh boy _,_ Clara thought, leaning up against the counter, I'm in it for the long haul _._ She smiled though, never willing to hurt someone's feelings, Clara bravely endured Miss Beatrice's morning mishaps without so much as glancing at the clock. Even managing a "really?" or "my word!" now and again.

Beatrice was an excitable old woman from Jamaica. She could talk all day and all night if someone could only listen for that long. Despite her ever lasting energy, Beatrice was a big woman. Her upper arms had a slight wobble whenever she became very animated when she told a story, and her pudgy fingers made typing difficult, because she couldn't hit just one key without also hitting the one next to it. But everyone who worked in Great Britain's School for Autistic Children could all agree, there was something beautiful about Miss Beatrice. So much did the staff and children think fondly of her, that they often called her, 'Nanna Beatrice'.

Clara eventually managed to slip off when the portly woman's desk phone started ringing, and Beatrice promised her she'd finish telling her the rest of the story later.

Lively old woman, she is, Clara smiled.

The tiles abruptly changed from the whitish grey that covered the floor in the reception area, to a variety of bright hues and shades of pink, blue, red, green, yellow, orange, and purple, as Clara went through the large glass doors to the Clock-In room. The Clock-In room also doubled as a security station. If any kids got away from their care workers, the burly guards in Mickey Mouse speckled scrubs would catch them. Clara could remember a few times when one slippery kid managed to get past the doors when someone had clocked-in and he had run through the second pair of doors before even the guards could catch him. Not surprisingly, all he had wanted to do was see Nanna Beatrice, so he hadn't wondered too far at least.

Clara waved to the guards as she held her ID badge up to a small machine mounted into the wall next to the Clock-In machine to scan it. The Identification Verifier beeped and flashed a small red light, sending a signal to the Clock-In machine to let her punch her card, thus unlocking the doors and allowing her into a large playroom that was full of screaming children.

Everything in the playroom was miniature. Tiny chairs, tiny tables, tiny plastic kitchenette and wood craft benches. There were cartoon animals painted on the walls, airplanes and pterodactyl hung from the ceiling, the carpet was made of a thick foam which, looked like gigantic miss-matched puzzle pieces. A round CD player in-cased in a clear plastic dome with holes in it played the ABCs on repeat at an ungodly volume. It was mounted on the wall high enough the children could not reach it.

Such wonderful music these poor kids have to listen to, she thought irritatedly. I swear, I'm throwing that stupid thing out before I go today...

As it was between classes, most of the children who only had mild Autism and were not violent were all allowed in the playroom to encourage social development and proper play skills. Though really, this was also a form of class room. The lessons were sharing, taking turns, and team work. Nothing too different from what was expected of a 'normal' child who did not fall in with the Autism Spectrum.

As Clara stepped in, another care worker met her at the door, apparently on his way to clock-out. He was much taller than her, her eyes were level with the ID badge that was made to look like a child had colored on the outer edges with red crayon, and in the middle of the tag said, _Danny_. Her eyes continued up until they met his own. Physically, she didn't miss a beat, "Pardon me." but mentally...

Dear God, her mind practically screamed.

"'Scuse me." he mumbled. Not rudely or tiredly, like you would normally think when someone mumbled. More...cutely, Clara thought. After two awkward seconds she politely stepped aside to let him by. "Sorry."

"You're fine." he said, and continued through.

The doors closed behind her, and he was gone. She let out a large breath and wiped sweaty hands on her scrubs.

No sir, she smirked, _you_ are fine.

"Austin, put that down! Andrew, please stop chewing on my shirt! Come on, guys!" yelled a desperate voice from across the playroom.

The commotion was coming from Kennedy, who was trying to get her ID badge back from a scrawny little ginger headed boy, but his hands were too fast for her, and held it from her reach. And...for some reason another little boy was chewing on her shirt.

As always when Miss Kennedy was working, the kids were giving her nine kinds of hell. Fortunately for them, Miss Kennedy was a bit of a push over. Unfortunately for them, however, Clara was not.

"All right you two. Let's behave like the gentlemen we know how to be." Clara set the two right, her stern teacher voice an effective tool.

Austin and Andrew were quick to listen, scrabbling over the poor drool covered care worker to get away from Clara.

"Thank you, Miss Clara," Kennedy breathed, reaching down and snatching her ID badge from the floor, "Boys can be such a handful. 'Specially those two."

"It's all in the tone. Never seen _Supernanny_ , then?"

"'Fraid not."

Clara chewed her tongue for a second, trying to think on how this was going to sound. Oh, it's just a little girly-talk, surely she won't think less of me, she figured, "So," Clara inched forward, "Who's the new guy?" She certainly wasn't going to waste time beating around the bush.

"Oh Danny? He started over two weeks ago." said Kennedy, wiping the spit from her badge on her scrub bottoms.

Clara eyes brows shot up a bit, "Really? How come I've only just now seen him?"

"Dunno," Kennedy shrugged, "You tend to get pretty caught up in your work. But," she smiled, "he's already seen you. Many times."

The sweat started collecting on her palms again, "You're kiddin'." she swallowed, "He's...checking me out?"

How could I be so oblivious, she coursed herself. She felt unimaginably dense.

"Yup! You poor, dumb thing!" joked Kennedy, elbowing Clara in the arm, "Come on, let get the rug rats round up."

"Yea." Clara nodded.

All the years Clara had spent being single must have really numbed her to the presence of a guy. Was that really such a bad thing though? Because most of her late teens and early adulthood had been dedicated to studying. Dating could've been a huge distraction. But then again, what if she'd missed the one for her? Her special someone?

He could've just walked right passed me all because my head was buried in a text book, she panicked.

After the kids had all lined up single file, (or as single file as they could.) they went for a bathroom break, and then it was back to class.

"Alright, has everybody washed their hands?"

Austin and Andrew were the first to answer, screaming as loud as they could, "Yes, Miss Cwara!" while the rest of the class was rather quiet about their answer.

A few classes later it was time for lunch. Oh, fun. The kids were going to love what was on the menu. Mixed vegetables and grilled chicken. Nice and healthy and completely boring. Even Clara thought it was a cheap lunch after working so hard in class. What ever happened to positive reinforcement? A reward! Her class deserved hotdogs and soda! (but really, Clara just had a hankering for hotdogs and soda. A healthy lunch was really the way to go.)

It took some time to get all the kids to sit still in their chairs, but they did eventually. The lunch sever rolled a stainless steel cart up to the table and handed out the plates of food. As expected, most of the kids crinkled their noses up at the monstrosity that was set before them.

"Come on guys, this is good food. Just try it!" Clara encouraged, "Look, I'm gonna have some to." At least she was until she saw what they were having with the meal, "Chocolate milk to go with mixed vegetables and chicken? Ew." So like the responsible adult that she was, Clara declined the plate that was offered to her, and instead just drank her chocolate milk.

"Mature." Kennedy muttered from across the table.

"I'm not hungry is all!" Clara defended, little droplets of chocolate milk dripping down her chin.

As it turns out, mixed vegetables and chicken went great with chocolate milk because the children had all gone quiet. Shoveling spoonfuls of peas and carrots eagerly.

With the class being so well behaved, it gave Clara and Kennedy a chance to talk.

"So blind, dumb, deaf Clara," Kennedy began, "You're hopeless, for starters."

Clara wiped her mouth with a napkin, "Why thank you, I try," she replied sharply.

"Well, sorry, but how could you not notice a man drooling at you for the last two weeks?"

Clara dropped her head in her hands, "Oh my gosh, I dunno. I've just been so caught up in work." She looked up at Kennedy, who looked very unconvinced at her excuse.

"Talk to him!" Kennedy blurted out in a hushed whisper, which every one could hear despite the fact. "You've got to, you'd be the cutest couple!"

"I rather thought I was cute all on my own." Clara pouted.

"Oops, sorry. Mustn't damage your moon-sized ego."

Clara's eyebrows twitched, "I don't have a moon-sized ego." she said through clenched teeth.

"Alright, alright," Kennedy leaned over the table, beckoning Clara to do the same. She put her hand to the said of her face, blocking view of her mouth as she whispered to Clara, "You know what the say though. Once you go bla-"

"Don't even finish that!"

The school day was finally drawing to a close. At three-thirty the majority of parents had arrived to pickup their children. Clara waved good-bye to all of them as the cars pulled away. Her shoulders dropped with a sigh as the last car drove from the parking lot.

It'd been a long day, filled with screaming kids, annoying boy-crazy co-workers and an even more annoying hot piece of man that she hadn't even noticed until hours ago..

* * *

Clara shuffled herself through the front door, her purse swinging limply in her hand before she dropped it to the floor in what was probably the laziest display known to mankind. She barley picked up her feet as moved to the living room. She could hear the couch singing her name. And what a lovely song it was...

Clever girl Clara was, she made sure the remote control was in her hand before she flopped down on her couch.

She clicked the TV on. It was the tail-end of the news. The blond anchor-woman was reporting on an elderly man who'd wandered off from his home just a few miles out from Northern London.

Clara quickly changed the channel. Not in the mood for depressing television, she clicked over to the nearest cartoon channel.


End file.
